so
mad at it, those decades at it, soft into midnight bars. to exhaust a haven
those shivers at dawn, for times are burning. a bit crazed a bit lethargic
while Love speaks while languishing. a coquettish talk a wild ass gangster walk,
so dear as one lost in limbo. as days churn or bold like beautiful her attitude
did wickedness. by soothing voice or hoarse from screaming those two bad ass Siamese.
so much a liar so curt under fire, while memories are undercurrents; such strength
such prayer where a holy man knows demons. Love was happy or Love was sick, I couldn’t
figure its spectrum; so much to pretentions or laughing in his grave while God
might visit. I met her at unawares, I was sleeping on duty, she swooped, broke
dominions, or sacrificed like winning. such cold penguins such alphabetical
turmoil, while heavy a comb in his afro. one fist for Jesus one dungeon for
panthers or sliding into another family. the iguana watching or a chameleon
with giggles such a maniac bending Crenshaw. (so amazed, looking so angry,
while they say, “Black men have problems.”) not in halves but a whole the
harvest looks good!
I watched a gibbon. it seemed sad.
we know primates have feelings. I looked closer, as afraid of self, to find us
in monkeys; a foul fellow a memory fellow beating into hells some female
monkey. we seem so crazed. it must be monogamy—for her or myself? I drift smoking
a cigarette looking at time pass; a curfew a virus so much to believe in
religion. I go silent running into beaches, a mask on, playing softer destiny.
Love is watching Love is fury where we wonder about our President. they say a
little something. they’ve said nothing. while we see different strokes for
different folks. a cliché a riddle an indictment. to form like acne to hit acme
while roses seem so rare. I turned down Slauson, I reminisced, it seems
different as time merges. I kept cruising into bourgeois land, so many too high
to relate. but fire is flaming the sounds are dropping it’s good to feel
culture.
